


Marked Territory (A Five Times Story)

by Pennygirl612



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 09:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennygirl612/pseuds/Pennygirl612
Summary: A five times story in which four times Elizabeth gets jealous and feels the need to mark her territory and one time that Peter is lost and is compelled to mark his.





	Marked Territory (A Five Times Story)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar.
> 
> This is my first attempt at a five times story. Each chapter represents one instance but all can stand alone. Chapter 1 is pretty much all original story. Chapter 2 references "Veiled Threat" from Season 3. Chapter 3 references "Compromising Positions" from Season 4. Chapter 4 references "Quantico Closure" from Season 5. Chapter 5 references "At What Price" from Season 5. I tried to have some fun with the first four chapters, but the last one took a more serious turn. Hope you enjoy and I welcome feedback and comments.

Marked Territory (A Five Times story where 4 times El marked her territory and 1 time Peter marked his) 

Chapter 1 

“Boss,” the tall, slender woman stated simply when Peter walked into the office that Monday morning.

Peter didn’t stop but she easily fell into step with him as he headed straight for the breakroom. Obviously, she was new or she would have known Peter doesn’t speak until he’s had his morning coffee. Pouring himself a cup and taking a sip, he stared back at the woman; impressed when she didn’t flinch under his hard gaze.

“You must be my new probie,” he stated.

The woman nodded and held out her hand. “Berrigan, Diana. It’s a real honor to be working with you.”

Peter grasped her hand and was rewarded with a quick but firm shake. “Really,” Peter said, a smirk on his face, “Harvard grad, I presume?”

He took another slow sip of coffee, never taking his eyes off her. Typically, a new probie would be dancing side to side with discomfort by now, stuttering to answer his questions. Diana was not. She stood confidently in front of him with no indication she felt intimidated. Peter was beginning to be intrigued. More so when he learned that she was not a Harvard grad and had grown up with parents working in the State Department.

“Hmm, and they couldn’t pull some clout to get you a better gig than here in White Collar?” Diana smiled; a nice smile Peter thought. 

“Oh, I made it clear to them that I would choose my own path.”

In her answer, Peter read between the lines. He suspected her parents were very much not happy with their daughter’s choice in profession; they had likely expected she would follow in their footsteps. All of this was making Peter begin to think his probie was going to be a welcome change from the last couple sent to him.

“So landing here was just bad luck of the draw,” he said, nodding his understanding. 

Diana frowned, “There was stiff competition for this spot and I had to work my ass off to land it!”

“Why? Why here?”

Diana didn’t hesitate, “To work with you.”

“And what do you know about me?”

“I know that you are smart, driven, and a demanding taskmaster. You have an eye for details that others can’t see or dismiss as unimportant. You are relentless in your pursuit of justice and won’t quit until an arrest is made. You expect your team to work long hours, but you don’t ask anyone to do something you wouldn’t be willing to do yourself. As a boss, you are honest, fair, and a straight-shooter.”

“That’s my reputation?” Peter asked in disbelief.

Diana snorted, “Hell, no. Your reputation is of being a complete and utter hard ass! It’s common knowledge that your probies hardly ever make it past six months. They either resign or transfer out.” 

Peter nodded, a look of satisfaction appearing on his face. Those had been the Harvard grads and not a one had known what it meant to put in a hard day’s work. Peter had been disgusted by their arrogance and sense of entitlement. 

“What makes you think you’ll make it the full year?”

Diana flashed a cocky smile. “I’m not afraid of hard work, and I don’t plan on wasting the opportunity to learn from the second best White Collar agent in the Bureau.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Second best?”

With a smirk, Diana answered, “Agent Kramer sends his best!”

Peter laughed so hard he nearly spilled the remainder of his coffee. Before he could argue about who was the better agent, Peter was interrupted by Agent Norris who had entered the room carrying a familiar paper bag.

Unlike Diana, Norris found Peter extremely intimidating. As he stood in front of Peter, he shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Uh, Agent Burke,” he stuttered. “Your wife was just here. She said you left your lunch at home again.”

Peter took his lunch and instructed Norris to give Diana the nickel tour and show her to her desk. Pouring another cup of coffee, Peter wondered why El hadn’t waited for him. Before he could give it any further thought, he saw Hughes standing at the top of stairs, giving him the two pointed finger wave to join him.  
*****   
After dropping off Peter’s lunch, Elizabeth went to work. All day she thought about the woman she had seen with Peter, wondering who she was. Elizabeth knew all of her husband’s immediate co-workers. She was certain she had never seen this woman before. In a still male dominated profession, she would have remembered her, especially given her attractive appearance. 

Spying her husband in the breakroom--since he had left the house in a hurry without his coffee, she had assumed that was where she would find him—she was about to walk in when something stopped her. There was something in his body language which prevented her from doing anything more than remaining rooted to her spot and watching. It took her a moment to figure it out. It wasn’t attraction…she trusted her husband and knew professionalism was of upmost importance to him. No, it was…curiosity. Something about this woman had surprised her husband, and he was now determined to figure her out. 

Just as she thought about joining them, she heard Peter laugh. It wasn’t a chuckle or snicker but a full out laugh that came from deep down. This mysterious woman had indeed surprised her husband. Elizabeth suddenly felt like she was intruding upon something private. Seeking out the nearest person, she handed Peter’s lunch bag over and hurried out. 

Now, in the safety of her office, she reflected back on what she had seen and determined she was completely overreacting. So what if this woman was pretty and made her husband laugh? She had no doubts about Peter’s devotion to her. She really had nothing to worry about. Satisfied, she was able to spend the rest of the day cleaning up work that she had been putting off. Before she knew it, Elizabeth was packing up her things to go home. Glancing at her watch, she realized if she hurried she could have a nice dinner prepared before Peter got home.  
*****  
The evening did not go according to plan. The special meal she had prepared was cold and dry by the time Peter had arrived home; several hours past when she had expected him. Of course, he had apologized for not calling and had given her a passing quick kiss on the check before proceeding upstairs to change his clothes. The remainder of the evening wasn’t any better as she was forced to hear all about his new probie who apparently (of course) was the cause of him being late.

“So El, they’ve finally given me someone with a brain and common sense to boot. Diana was going through the cold cases I gave her and she found a connection my team had missed. Can you believe it? Agents with ten times her experience…”

His excitement was clearly evident, but Elizabeth stopped listening; only nodding her head on occasion, smile planted on her face, as he continued to speak in glowing terms of Diana. Diana! Not probie or whatever her last name was, but Diana. To her husband, Reese was Hughes, Clinton was Jones, Doug was Norris, but she somehow was Diana. Elizabeth wasn’t at all sure what to make of that except to know that she didn’t like it.

Being the good wife, Elizabeth kept her thoughts to herself, not wanting to bring down her husband’s enthusiasm just yet. Further study and possible reconnaissance was in order before any final conclusions could be drawn.   
*****  
The next day, Peter in his excitement to follow up on another lead of Diana’s (she had texted him while they were in the kitchen) rushed out of the house with the merest brush of lips to her forehead and a “love you” thrown over his shoulder as the door was closing. Fuming, Elizabeth started working on a plan to find out more about this woman her husband was so worked up about. 

A few hours later, Elizabeth took her lunchbreak early and headed for Peter’s office. She knew he wasn’t there which is precisely what she wanted. Entering the office space, she spied Agent Norris lingering by his desk. He hopped to his feet and rushed over upon seeing her. Elizabeth planted what she knew to be a sweet, innocent smile on her face as she interrogated, uh, questioned him about the office; knowing full well that Norris was a huge gossip and wouldn’t be able to resist telling her all about the new probie. 

Elizabeth quickly learned that Diana had excelled at Quantico and was near top of her class. She had requested her assignment to White Collar, specifically wanting to work with Peter. Elizabeth steered the conversation in a more personal direction and learned to her dismay that Diana was single. She dismissed the odd look from Norris when she asked if Diana had a boyfriend, but did pick up on his hesitation in answering no to that question. Having obtained the information she was after, Elizabeth told Norris she would catch up with her husband later and quickly excused herself. 

Elizabeth didn’t return to her office, but instead went shopping. There were some things she needed for the evening; some very, very special things. While she trusted her husband, she wasn’t sure she could trust this probie who had requested assignment to Peter. Did that speak solely to her husband’s reputation as one of the best agents in the bureau or was it about something more--personal for Diana? Did she fully understand that Peter loved his wife and was completely unavailable? Had he given her any other impression than that of a devoted husband in a rock solid marriage? 

These doubts quickened Elizabeth’s pace to the store downtown. She needed to have everything ready before Peter came home. While she couldn’t control what Diana thought or felt about her irresistible husband, Elizabeth could remind Peter what she had to offer and about what a good thing he had going in his life with her.   
*****   
Glancing at his watch, Peter realized it was later than he had thought when he stepped into the house which explained why he found the living room and kitchen deserted without any lights on. Wearily stripping off his jacket and leaving it on the back of the kitchen chair, Peter pulled a beer from the fridge. Draining it in three swallows, he kicked off his shoes and exhaled a deep breath. Now that he was home, the effects from the long day were catching up to him.

Tiptoeing upstairs, Peter expected to find Elizabeth in bed asleep. The reality of what he saw hit him like a ton of bricks; instantly zapping away all exhaustion. Just in case his eyes were playing tricks on him, Peter blinked hard, but what he saw before him remained unchanged. There laid out on the bed was his wife, but she was far from being sound asleep. She was dressed in what appeared to be a black leather outfit that contained straps that crisscrossed below her breasts, leaving them lifted and fully exposed for him to see. Another, wider strap was attached at the chest and disappeared straight down between her legs presumably attaching somewhere behind her back. 

As his wife gracefully moved off the bed and unto her feet; Peter’s mouth suddenly was very dry and his breath quickened. Heart pounding, he could feel the blood rushing straight downward, instantly filling him up as evident by the tenting of his pants. When he started to move towards her, she put a hand up and stopped him. Peter instantly froze.

“Take off your clothes,” she demanded in a voice that Peter swore had never heard come from her lips before. He was so stunned by her tone and the sight before him that Peter just stood there without moving.

Elizabeth cracked her hand against a paddle she was holding, snapping Peter to attention. Funny, he had not noticed it was in her hand before now. Apparently, he had been distracted by other…things.

“If I have to ask you again, there will be consequences!” Elizabeth hissed in a voice dangerous low.

Peter instantly complied with her order, stripping off all his clothes in record time. Standing naked before her, he could feel the straining of his cock. He moved a hand down to relieve some pressure but just a look from Elizabeth made him redirect his hand back to his side. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Peter shook his head. This demanding, dominant Elizabeth was fucking hot!

“El,” Peter started to say, but she moved quickly behind him and twice whacked his naked ass. Whispering in his ear, she asked, “Did I say you could speak?” 

Deciding to fully embrace the game his wife wanted to play, Peter answered softly, “No, Mistress.”

Elizabeth rewarded him with a light touch starting with his ass and working her way to cup his balls as she returned to stand before him. Peter lowered his eyes in submission. Pleased, Elizabeth again rewarded him with a slow stroke of his cock.

“Good boy,” she praised. “Now kneel.”

Peter sank to the floor, his legs beneath him; his hands behind him, his head tucked down almost against the floor. After a moment, he found himself feeling fidgety; not use to the current position he found himself in. Immediately another crack of the paddle landed on his ass. The pain blended with pleasure and a groan escaped his lips. He managed to remain still for what seemed to be a lifetime but in reality was probably a few minutes before Elizabeth ordered him up on his knees.

While keeping his eyes lowered, Peter watched Elizabeth move over to the bed where she positioned herself on the edge, her legs bent at the knees. Peter inhaled sharply and bit his lip when he saw that the strap running between her legs wasn’t solid but had a large oval hole strategically placed so that she was easily accessible.

“Do you need an invitation? Come here.”

“Yes, no, yes, Mistress,” Peter stuttered before crawling over to the bed side.

Face planted directly in front of the hole, Peter’s cock became increasingly hard as he breathed in her smell. He could clearly see that she was already wet and ready for him. Without further ado, he stuck his tongue out and proceeded to lick in and out, up and down and all around her, occasionally nibbling her inner thighs; his teeth biting just hard enough to leave small, purplish marks. Her increased breath and soft moans only spurred him on more; now determined to send her into orgasmic heaven as quickly as possible. 

From the quivering of her legs to her sudden religious affiliation, Peter knew Elizabeth was on the precipice of bliss. Pushing in even harder with his tongue, Peter added two fingers and thumbed her outside until he felt and tasted her sweet release. 

Not daring to move, Peter waited silently for her to ride out the waves of pleasure. Despite a near desperate need for his own release, Peter made no attempts to reach down and touch himself hoping his wife wouldn’t leave him in such a state for long. 

He was proven right, when Elizabeth scooted back further on the bed and motioned for him to follow. Spreading her legs, she invited him to take her. He entered her in one long stroke and immediately moved relentlessly within her; changing the angle to better please her knowing full well that he wouldn’t last too long. Just as he thought he would fall short of providing her with a second release, he felt her tense around him. Hearing Elizabeth whisper his name was all Peter needed to complete his own journey over the edge.

Moments later as their breaths returned to normal, Peter felt Elizabeth’s eyes on him. Reaching over, he pulled her closer until her head rested on his chest. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but care to tell me what that was all about…Mistress?” Peter asked. 

When Elizabeth remained silent, Peter continued. “You know, Norris told me you stopped by the office today. He said you were asking about Diana.”

Elizabeth held her breath for a moment. “Did he?” She asked trying to sound as if she didn’t have any idea where Peter was going with this, but her husband knew her too well, and she could almost hear the smirk in his voice when he answered.

“He did. Specifically asking about whether or not she has a boyfriend.” 

Elizabeth tried to remain silent, but the words left her mouth before she could stop them. “Does she?”

Peter didn’t immediately answer instead relishing in his wife’s discomfort. “No,” he finally acknowledged. “She doesn’t but,” Peter paused for effect, “she does have a really nice girlfriend, and I’ve invited them both over for dinner tomorrow night so you can meet them.”

Chapter 2 

That cowardly bastard! Elizabeth thought as she crashed down heavily onto the couch. A glass of red wine in one hand and her phone in the other, Elizabeth was practically fuming as she re-read the text message Peter had left for her. “Hon. Will be out late. Close to wrapping up case. Don’t worry or wait up. Love you.”

Because she had been in back-to-back client meetings, Elizabeth had not read the message until near the end of her work day, several hours after Peter had initially sent the message. Of course, he had known her schedule for the day so it wasn’t a matter of coincidence that he had sent the message when he had. She had tried to call Peter. No response; his phone went straight to voicemail. Next, she had tried to call Neal. Again, her call went unanswered.

Taking a long sip of wine, she held it in her mouth, before slowly swallowing, welcoming the slight burn all the way down into her knotted belly. Forcing a deep breath in and out, Elizabeth sat quietly rehashing the events of the last few days, trying to determine just how they had gotten to this point; this point where Elizabeth was ready to conduct an internet search on easy torture techniques. She briefly wondered if there was a “Dummies Guide to Husband Torture” available for purchase on Amazon.

It had all started off innocently enough. When Peter had told her about participating in the dating auction, Elizabeth had to admit, she had taken it as a personal challenge to see to it that Peter had won. She hadn’t stopped to think about the consequences, that by virtue of winning, Peter was setting himself up for physical danger. No, she had only wanted to prove to her husband and if she really stopped to think about it-to Neal as well, that Peter was no slouch in the looks department and could more than hold his own in charm. She had taken immense satisfaction and pride in her husband when he told her not only had he won, but that the payout had been a near record for the auction. That all came crashing to a halt when he had next told her that his reward was an actual date with the suspected Black Widow. 

And while she admitted that part of her feared for Peter’s physical safety, Elizabeth sadly knew most of her concern was that this woman would actually fall for Peter. How could she not? Elizabeth knew it would not take long for any woman, if given half the chance, to see how truly special Peter was. It was more than straight sex appeal, which Elizabeth acknowledged Peter had in spades; it was his calm, quiet confidence that left you breathless. 

The events of today had proven both of her points. It had been beyond scary to see the car go speeding past, narrowly missing Peter. And all she had wanted to do in that moment was wrap her arms around her husband and take solace in his warm, firm body. Of course, she couldn’t because he wasn’t just her husband at the time, but also, Peter Williams, fiancé to the drop-dead gorgeous brunette standing next to him. It had taken all Elizabeth had to step back and allow Selena to be the one to comfort Peter. 

Taking another sip of wine, Elizabeth thought back to when she had first seen the suspected Black Widow. When she had asked Peter and Neal if Selena was attractive, both had been evasive; leaving no doubt in her mind that the woman was pretty. Still, she had not been prepared for the reality of seeing her in the flesh when Selena had sashayed into her office wearing a tight-fitting, sleeveless blue dress that also showed off two of her more prominent attributes. Elizabeth had to sit there, a sweet smile planted on her face, while Selena put her hands and her lips on Peter as she cozied up beside him on the couch. 

Checking her phone and seeing it was after nine didn’t alleviate any of Elizabeth’s doubts or fears and only added to the rampant thoughts going through her head. The not knowing was killing her. Determined to get answers, Elizabeth tried first calling Peter and then Neal, but still, neither picked up the phone. In desperation, she dialed Mozzie. Just as she was about to end the call, Mozzie answered.

“Mrs. Suit, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Her initial delight in reaching Mozzie, quickly turned to suspicion when she heard loud music in the background. “Mozzie, are you at a party? Is Peter there? He’s not answering his phone.”

Mozzie’s hesitation in answering only confirmed Elizabeth’s suspicions. “Mozzie, I swear to God you had better tell me what’s going on!”

“Uh, nothing, nothing’s going on. Oh, the music! National Geographic is doing a special on primitive societies. Would you believe what you hear is actually the mating dance of the Tybrinha Indians, a primitive tribe living deep in the rainforest of Brazil…” 

Having lost her patience hours ago, Elizabeth cut him off, her sarcasm biting as she answered, “I didn’t know Justin Timberlake had infected his way into Tybrinha culture!”

“Oh, well, you can never underestimate the influence of boy bands…”

“Mozzie,” Elizabeth’s voice was low and dangerously calm, “if you value Mozart’s life, you will tell me right now that you have eyes on Peter.”

Elizabeth heard Mozzie swallow hard. “I have eyes on the Suit.”

“What is he doing?”

Mozzie started to speak, stopped, and cleared his throat, all in an attempt to stall. He did have eyes on Peter. Currently he and Neal were at the bar surrounded by scantily clad women apparently taking shots with their suspect. He didn’t think it wise to give Elizabeth that visual; not in her current state of mind. “He’s, uh, he’s working,” Mozzie said instead.

“Really, he’s working? His work involves being at a party?”

“You couldn’t very well have a bachelor party without the bachelor…” Mozzie stopped abruptly realizing he had screwed up again. He expected Elizabeth to explode, but it caused more concern when she simply ended the call without another word.  
*****  
Scurrying over to Neal and Peter, Mozzie filled them in on Elizabeth’s call. Peter seemed nervous when he asked, “Mozzie did you mention the type of party, specifically that it was a bachelor party?” The guilty expression on Mozzie’s face said it all. Peter hung his head. He was in deep shit. 

Neal put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Peter, we have to finish this and then you can go home and explain everything to Elizabeth. I’m sure she will understand. The two of you will laugh about this…one day…” Neal’s voice trailed off. Even he recognized the unlikelihood of what he was saying. 

Peter looked grim when he spoke. “Yeah, well, you don’t know what happened at my bachelor party. Mozzie, you don’t practice in divorce law by chance…”  
*****  
Enraged, Elizabeth had hung up the phone and downed the remaining half glass of wine in one swallow. This situation had just gone from bad to catastrophic! Her husband was having a bachelor party! No wonder he was avoiding her; knowing damn well she would start thinking about what had happened at his last bachelor party….Elizabeth hopped to her feet. If she was going to make it through the night, she would need more wine to fortify her resolve. And when her husband did finally make it home, she would be ready for him.  
*****  
It was after midnight when Elizabeth heard a car door shut signifying that Peter was finally home. If she hadn’t still been so mad, Elizabeth would have found it amusing that Peter had stood outside their front door for a full ten minutes before feeling brave enough to come inside. She may have even laughed at the shocked expression on his face when he first saw her sitting completely naked on the couch. As it was her anger was simmering at a near boil, and she found nothing funny about the situation; only felt determination to take back what was rightfully hers.

“This, uh, isn’t what I expected to come home to,” Peter said, confusion clear in his voice.

She noted how he remained rooted to the spot just inside the door, seemingly unable to move any further into the room likely thinking it best to keep some safe distance between them.

“Judging from how long it took you to come in, I presume you were expecting to encounter more hazardous conditions.”

Peter nodded, eyes warily watching her. He couldn’t get a fix on her mood. She was naked; gloriously naked. And under normal circumstances, all parts of him would be responding to that fact. But these were not normal circumstances. Clearly, he had a pissed off, jealous wife on his hands and that made his normally sweet, innocent wife dangerously unpredictable. Attempting levity, he half-joked, “Yeah, like a gun.”

Elizabeth answered immediately, no emotion heard in her voice, “Too quick and too loud.”

Peter felt a chill go through him. “A knife?”

“Too messy. I wouldn’t want all that blood on the carpet.”

“Poison?”

“Too slow.” Elizabeth rose up from the couch and walked predatorily towards him. 

Attempting to retreat, Peter soon felt the door, solid and cool against his back. “I see you’ve given this some thought,” he said, his voice sounding a half octave higher than normal.

Elizabeth continued to stalk her prey, relishing Peter’s discomfort. “I had some time on my hands, didn’t I?” Elizabeth stopped mere inches away. “I had hours to replay watching her hands on you, her lips brushing across yours; hours to replay how easily she claimed you as her own.”

Before Peter could speak; Elizabeth grabbed the lapels of his blazer and pushed him further against the wall. “Stay,” she ordered. Peter closed his eyes and inhaled sharply as Elizabeth’s hands wandered slowly down his side before making their way back upwards feeling along his inner thighs coming to rest at what was suddenly an impressive sized bulge in his pants. A moan escaped his lips when Elizabeth went down to her knees and used her teeth to unbuckle his belt and then pull his zipper down. Rising back to her feet, she made fast work of the button and soon his pants were falling to the floor. 

With his wife’s hand lightly grazing over his cock, Peter’s eyes widened and then narrowed when they met her fiery blue stare. He leaned in to touch her, but stopped when her grip tightened to an uncomfortable level around him, a clear warning to stay put. 

Unbuttoning his dress shirt, she started at the top and worked her way down. Soon it and his blazer were flung to the side. Elizabeth stepped back and slowly looked Peter up and down; an all-consuming look that left Peter shivering with anticipation. His cock, now freed from her grasp, was achingly hard. 

Her hands swept across his broad shoulders and down his broad chest. “My hands,” she said softly, “only my hands on you.” 

Elizabeth moved in closer, pulling his head down. Her hands fisted in his short brown hair before she attacked his lips, claiming forcefully his mouth, her tongue invading without waiting for permission. Then she pulled back ever so slightly until their lips merely touched. “My lips,” she whispered, “only my lips on you.”

Peter felt his knees quiver leaving him barely enough strength to remain standing when Elizabeth let go of him. “Open your eyes,” she demanded. He had no doubt that the hungry look of desire he found there were reflecting back to her from his own eyes. “El,” he groaned; unable to hold back his want for her. 

Peter’s breath quickened when Elizabeth reached down between her own legs and fingered herself before wrapping that same hand firmly around his cock. The lubrication from her own juices allowed for just the right amount of friction to stroke his length. “And this, this will always be mine and only mine!” 

Peter could only nod having found he was incapable of any speech as long as his wife was setting such a demanding pace. Biting his lip, he tried to hold back, but he was past the point of no return. Crying out her name, Peter spilled all over her hand. 

Licking herself clean, Elizabeth glared hard at Peter, “Mine!”

Peter could do nothing more than slide down onto the floor, surrounded by his discarded clothes when Elizabeth turned away from him. He didn’t see the satisfied smirk on her face as she proceeded up the stairs; knowing how she had successfully reclaimed what was hers. 

Chapter 3 

They were halfway home from the staged photo shoot where Sara had played the part of his mistress when Peter felt Elizabeth’s eyes pinned on him. He had known the silence wouldn’t last and was actually surprised they had made it as far as they did. 

“That went well,” Elizabeth said matter of fact.

Peter held his breath not willing to rush into a potential mine field so he never took his eyes off the road. “Yes,” he answered, deciding the less said, the safer he was.

“You and Sara looked good together, natural even.”

Peter internalized a sigh. He really, really didn’t want to be having this conversation. “That’s good,” he said, and hastily added, “uh, I mean because the photos will look real, believable.”

If Elizabeth heard the discomfort in his voice, she chose to ignore it and continued, “Sara is very attractive, don’t you think?”

And there it is Peter thought squirming uncomfortable in his seat. His wife had just positioned him into a classic no win situation. Sara was gorgeous and Elizabeth would know he was lying and become immediately suspicious if he tried to deny something so utterly undeniable. But to admit that Sara was attractive--well, that was its own grenade. 

Elizabeth must have thought Peter was taking too long to answer so she spoke for him. “Of course you do. It was sooo obvious. What with the way Junior Agent Burke rose to the occasion.”

Peter risked a quick sideways glance at his wife but wisely kept his mouth shut. He should have known that his state of erection with Sara hadn’t escaped his wife’s notice. Peter winced; pretty sure that fact hadn’t escaped Sara either and had led to her hasty retreat off the bed. It wasn’t his fault, he knew. Any man under the circumstances would have had the same reaction. Mere biology, he tried to assure himself. 

Elizabeth continued knowing she had left her husband speechless. “Could you tell if she was wet? I bet she was wet.”

Elizabeth’s question caused Peter to choke up and nearly run the car off the road. Gripping the steering wheel so hard it was nearly painful, he kept his eyes front and center on the pavement ahead; praying for divine intervention to save him from his present hell. Apparently, his prayer fell on deaf ears as his wife took the conversation up a notch.

“Oh, you two looked hot. Well once you both relaxed and really got into it. Very hot! The way she stripped your shirt off? Let me show you how wet that made me!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Elizabeth wiggling. The next thing he knew, she was hanging her lacy, cream-colored panties on the rear view mirror. His nostrils flared and his cock showed renewed signs of life picking up her scent. If the heavy smell of sex was any indication, Elizabeth wasn’t exaggerating just how turned on she had been watching him with Sara.

Finding his voice, Peter groaned, “That’s not an air freshener.”

Elizabeth giggled, “No? You seem to like it,” pointing down to the growing bulge in his dress pants. 

Peter groaned when Elizabeth ran her hand lightly up and down against his length. Grabbing her hand, he forcefully returned it to the safety of her lap. At least he thought it was safe, until moments later he heard a low moan escape her lips. Peter gasped. Apparently, if she couldn’t touch him Elizabeth had decided to take matters literally into her own hands. 

“Peter, watching you with her was almost intoxicating! It was like I was watching something sensual and forbidding and so fucking sexy!” Elizabeth groaned replaying the image in her mind of Peter wrapping Sara’s leg around his waist. “Peter, you need to stop this car. I need you inside me right now!”

Peter’s grip of the wheel tightened even more. He scoured the area around them; looking for a place to pull over. Frustration mounted seeing nothing but heavily populated and brightly lit streets. Damn the city that never sleeps, he thought angrily. Another minute passed before triumph rang out seeing a narrow alley off to the left offering enough darkness, enough seclusion for their purposes.

Peter barely had the car in park before Elizabeth was unbuckling his seat belt and shoving him into the back seat of the sedan. She pounced on top of him, hand scrambling to unbuckle his belt. She pushed his pants and boxers down just low enough on his hips to free his now straining cock. Without further ado, Elizabeth hiked up her dress and sank down, taking all of him at once. 

She continued to whisper dirty words into his ear while riding him fast and hard. Never one to be a passive bystander, Peter used one hand to grip El’s waist to help guide her rhythm while the other hand reached between them to rub his thumb across her clit during each downward stroke. Keeping such a merciless pace, both found themselves near the brink of oblivion. With one last roll of her hip, Peter spilled into his wife. With intensity in her eye, Elizabeth continued to ride Peter who was now thumbing roughly against her nub until she too was sent over the edge crying out his name in the process. 

Once she had come down from her sex high, Elizabeth looked at Peter and found him smirking up at her. 

“What?” Elizabeth asked somewhat out of breath. 

“Feel better now that you’ve properly marked your territory?” Peter asked. 

Elizabeth threw her head back and laughed. “As a matter of fact, I do. You can take me home now!”

Chapter 4 

Even before the drinks had been delivered, Elizabeth had noticed the woman sitting at the bar. Specifically, she had observed the woman eyeing up her husband. A heat flooded her veins while she looked the woman over. She was blond, leggy with a chest you couldn’t help but notice. Age was too hard to tell at a glance. 

Elizabeth tried to dismiss the woman and focus back on Peter. It was an anniversary of sorts and since Segal’s death; Peter had been making an effort to spend more quality time with her. When the drinks arrived and the waiter nodded in the direction of the blond, Elizabeth felt that heat sweep through her again. And when Peter identified the woman as Jill, Quantico Jill, ex-lover Jill, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes watching the woman glide over to their table; every step measured and confident. 

Jill gave her a brief once over before focusing her pearly white smile all on Peter. The look said a lot; too much. The liberties she was now taking with Peter was enough to drive Elizabeth crazy. She was sitting way too close; acting way too familiar with Peter, a casual touch to his arm which Elizabeth knew damn well wasn’t meant to be casual at all.

For his part, Peter had the decency to look uncomfortable, but Elizabeth had no sympathy for him. She was too busy reminding herself to remain calm and refrain from throwing the woman to the ground to wipe that damn smirk off her face. But Elizabeth swore to God if the woman brushed against Peter’s leg one more time… 

Elizabeth took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. As an event planner, she had vast experience dealing with people she didn’t necessarily like. She could do this. It wasn’t as if she was jealous or anything. She could make it through one dinner with Peter’s ex. And so she sat there quietly listening while the two exchanged Quantico stories. She managed not to slap them both silly when they annoyingly kept finishing each other’s sentences; all the while a sweet, deceptively innocent smile planted on her face…well perhaps not so deceptive if Peter’s occasional sideways glance meant anything.

With the evening turning late, Peter excused himself to the restroom; leaving the two women alone at the table. An uncomfortable silence fell between them. By this time, Elizabeth was nearly seeing red and was in no mood for small talk. She needed to take action having now conceded that what she felt was indeed jealousy. Without hesitation, she stood announcing she also needed to use the restroom. 

Although she meant to walk smoothly, gracefully away, Elizabeth found herself walking too much with purpose, nearly at a march. Out of sight from the tables, Elizabeth walked right past the door to the women’s bathroom to stop outside of the men’s. She knew that at this restaurant each restroom held a single stall. She didn’t have to wait long before the door knob turned. She wasted no time forcing the door open causing Peter to stumble back against the wall. Pinning him there with her laser beam glare, she never took her eyes off him as she closed and locked the door behind her.

Peter started to speak, but she cut him off. “Shut up and do as I tell you, Mister! Unbuckle your belt and drop your pants!”

Peter, who had been standing there with a deer in the headlight look, now inhaled sharply; heat stirring in his veins, blood rushing to his cock. His eyes darkened when Elizabeth slapped his hand away from his waist apparently deeming him not to be moving fast enough for her liking. By the time she pulled down his boxers, his cock was at full hardness. A low moan escaped his throat as she spit into her hand and stroked him once, twice, three times. 

Melting into the wall, Peter watched as his wife dropped to her knees and swallowed him whole. “Fuck, El, slow down…fuck…”

Elizabeth ignored him; showing no mercy as she relentlessly sucked him off harder and faster. With the demands of her mouth all over his cock, Peter couldn’t hold out and soon went over the edge. Elizabeth swallowed every last drop and Peter groaned watching her lick the last of the cum from his slit. 

Only then did she stand, eyes still blazing with heat. She used her body to keep Peter trapped against the wall as she proceeded to kiss and suck along his jawline; whispering all the while, that he belonged to her. Seeing a little purplish bruise forming under his left ear, Elizabeth stepped back; her energy finally drained. Satisfied that she had successfully staked her claim, Elizabeth rinsed her mouth and washed her hands. Without a word, she spun on her heels and left a stunned Peter alone in the bathroom. 

Elizabeth sat proudly at the table; relishing the expression on Jill’s face when she recognized the freshly fucked look that exuded from Peter when he finally returned to the table. Standing quickly, Jill announced she was calling it a night but thanked them for a lovely evening. Elizabeth smirked as Jill’s eyes narrowed in on the love mark she had left on Peter. A silent “mine” conveyed in Elizabeth’s eyes as she told Jill how it was a pleasure to meet her.

Peter, ever the gentleman, walked Jill to the door. He grinned sheepishly as Jill raised her eyebrows at him. “I guess I should say ‘thank you’?”

Jill laughed, “You’re welcome, Peter!”  
*****  
Chapter 5 

Stepping outside of the courthouse, Peter recognized he was still somewhat in a state of shock over the events that not only had led to his release but to incarcerating him in the first place. Even seeing Elizabeth did little to crack the wall he had built around himself in order to survive the last six weeks. He had spent that time in total isolation, segregated from the regular prison population presumably for his own protection but it felt like its own brand of punishment. It had left him all but numb. 

For her sake, he planted a smile on his face and opened his arms. She wasted no time scampering up the steps and into his arms. At the contact, Peter tried not to flinch and convey the coldness that dwelled deep within him. Seeing her, he reflected how different, less complicated his life had once been before Neal had entered their lives. If he had known his journey would have led him to a prison cell and nearly costing him the most important thing in his life, would he have still accepted Neal’s deal? It scared Peter when he didn’t know the answer.

If Elizabeth was confused by his breaking contact first and walking straight to the car without words or any further acknowledgement of her at all, she didn’t show it and for that he was relieved. He really didn’t know what to say at the moment. He just knew he wanted to go home. Once there, maybe he could figure the rest out.

During the ride, Peter remained silent as he simply stared out the window watching the passing scenery thinking how different the view was than that of his 6 by 8 prison cell. Elizabeth, God bless her, didn’t question him or even talk about how glad she was to have him freed, instead she channeled her inner Seinfeld and spoke a whole lot about nothing. Strangely enough, Peter found it soothing to just sit back and listen to her voice without the need for commentary or any real thought on his part. 

After what seemed like an endless journey, they finally arrived at their townhouse. Peter exhaled a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding when he saw that the townhouse was dark and quiet. He knew his team and friends were all thrilled to have him back and he had half expected them to be waiting for him here at the house.

“Thank God,” Peter whispered softly knowing he wasn’t up for company, the irony not lost upon him after spending all that time in isolation just wishing for some form of human contact.

Elizabeth must have read his mind. “No, thank Neal,” she said for the first time addressing Peter directly. “Everyone wanted to be here and welcome you but he stopped them. He said that you would want some space, need a moment to readjust. I think they balked a bit on him until he gently reminded them that he had more experience in the matter than they did.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Peter nodded and sent a silent thank you to Neal as he exited the car. Elizabeth for a moment looked as if she wanted to say more, but held her tongue and followed him up the walkway to the stoop of the house where she fished the keys from her purse and led them inside. 

Looking around, Peter found everything just as he had left it; yet it all felt different. It took him a moment to realize it was himself that felt out of place. A shiver ran through him which he knew Elizabeth saw. Though he could tell she was trying not to be obvious about it, she was watching his every move; concern masked in her blue eyes. She was practically walking on egg shells around him but Peter just didn’t have the energy to deal with it. So when she quietly suggested he go take a shower while she fixed them some dinner, he didn’t protest only nodded before walking up the stairs. 

He entered their bedroom and a feeling of panic consumed him forcing him into the bathroom where he proceeded to retch up what little he had managed to eat that morning. As the dry heaves wrecked his body, Peter was thankful that Elizabeth was downstairs and couldn’t hear him. She would have felt compelled to enter and provide comfort only causing him greater pain in the embarrassment of it all. 

The simple act of stripping off his clothing sent another wave of panic through him, but this time he managed to swallow down the bitter acid he felt rising in the back of his throat. He drug himself into the shower, not bothering to let the water warm up. He accepted the cold, relished in it for at least he felt something more than hollowness inside. As the water turned hot so did his mood. 

What the fuck is wrong with you?! You should be happy your home! Instead you are lingering in the shower wallowing in self-pity clearly avoiding the woman who loves you and has stood by you through it all! You are a pathetic excuse for a man. She deserves better than this. Cowboy fucking up! 

Yet Peter found he couldn’t move. It wasn’t until the water turned cold again that he managed to leave the confines of the shower. To his surprise, he found a pair of boxers, sweat pants and an old college sweatshirt sitting on the vanity. So lost in his own head, he had never heard Elizabeth enter the room. 

Knowing he couldn’t remain upstairs forever, Peter forced one foot in front of the other and quietly entered the kitchen to find his wife seated at the table eating a bowl of soup. Beside her at his typical place sat another steaming bowl and a glass of ginger-ale. Had she heard him after all or was his wife that much inside his head or was this something else he had Neal to thank for? Had he prepped his wife on what to expect? If so, Peter found himself feeling guilty because who had been there for Neal when he had gotten out? Certainly not Peter, who had dropped him off at a dump of an apartment and left Neal to fend for himself without a second thought and he had served four long years in super-max unlike the mere six weeks Peter has just spent inside.

Staring down at the bowl, Peter saw that it contained mostly broth along with a few noodles. Peter picked up the spoon and tentatively took a mouthful. To his relief, the chicken broth went down easily and warmed his insides. With more enthusiasm, he swallowed another spoonful and another until the bowl was near empty. A cautious swallow of the ginger-ale left Peter comforted in that fact that at least his stomach was no longer rebelling against him. 

Without a word, Elizabeth picked up both of their bowls and loaded them into the dishwasher. 

Peter wasn’t sure if it was the simple act of eating or just the emotional events of the day, but suddenly he felt drained. “Is it okay if I go to bed?” he cautiously asked.

Elizabeth nodded, “Of course. It’s been a long day.” Peter saw the hesitation in her eyes, but Elizabeth kept her voice neutral when she told him that she had made the bed in the spare room in case he would feel more comfortable sleeping there tonight.

The thought of returning to their bedroom had given him pause especially after his earlier reaction. Maybe it would be best to stay in the other room. Just for tonight, he told himself. Without meeting her eyes, he nodded and excused himself.

Bypassing their bedroom, he entered the other room but he didn’t close the door behind him. He didn’t want to feel caged in. He never wanted to feel that way again. With a sigh, Peter sank down on the bed. With nothing but his boxers on, he felt the coolness of the sheets against his mostly naked flesh. 

He was still awake when he heard Elizabeth’s soft steps outside his door. He closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. After a moment, he heard her footsteps fade away as she entered their bedroom. As he lay there, he visualized her getting ready for bed. It was something he had frequently done during his first few weeks incarcerated. But as the days had went by, Peter had stopped. What had been the point? The evidence against him was damning. Despite his trust in the legal system, he had to face the fact that he was likely going to spend at least the next 20-25 years in prison. To continue to think about his prior life with Elizabeth only left him in a deep state of despair about a future lost to him.

Now the thought of Elizabeth spending even one more night alone was too much for him to bear. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that closeness with her but he had to try. For her sake, he damn well had to try. Having made his decision, Peter didn’t allow himself to hesitate outside their bedroom door. He entered and before he could talk himself out of it, he slid under the covers next to a very surprised Elizabeth. 

For a moment, neither said a word, in fact, Peter wasn’t sure either one of them even took a breath. He knew he couldn’t look at her so he kept his eyes fixated on the ceiling above him. He wasn’t ready to see the sadness or the pity he envisioned was there. But he did recognize he was going to have to be the one to break the silence. Taking a deep breath, Peter whispered, “El, I’m here.”

And in her answer, his heart nearly broke. “No, you’re not. You’re still there.”

An ache went through him not just for her but for himself. Somehow he had to find the strength to fix this. Cautiously, Peter reached out and clasped her hand. The warmth of her touch sent shock waves through him; giving him the courage to find his voice again. “I want to be here. Help me be here with you.”

Peter heard her sharp intake of breath. “Tell me how.”

“Love me?” Peter said, cursing the fear that came out in his voice making it sound more like a question and knowing his perceptive wife would pick up on all the doubts running through his head. He tried again, this time with more conviction. “Love me.”

Elizabeth hesitated. “Are you sure?”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips before he could stop it. “No,” he admitted. “But can we try?”

Elizabeth didn’t move, didn’t breath. He knew she was weighing his words against what his body was physically displaying to her. Other than taking her hand, Peter had avoided all contact with Elizabeth since he had entered their bed. Hell, he hadn’t even been able to look at her, instead hiding within himself under the cover of the darkness in the room.

Just when he thought all was lost, Elizabeth moved. Inch by inch, she moved closer to him. She moved so slowly, he wasn’t sure if she was afraid of spooking him or only allowing him time to change his mind. Peter found himself moving towards her, inch by inch until they met in the middle. A deep breath in and out settled his spinning thoughts. He found himself turning towards her, seeing uncertainty in the eyes meeting his. He attempted a smile. Judging from her expression, he wasn’t sure he was successful. 

“Love me,” he repeated, this time his eyes never leaving hers.

A wave of panic nearly caused him to back away when he saw her face closing in on his. But her gentle squeeze of his hand reassured him that everything was going to be okay. Soon he was lifting his lips to meet hers. She withdrew after the merest brush of contact between them. 

It wasn’t enough, Peter found himself thinking. He wanted; no he needed more. “El,” he said meaning to convey that to her, but of course she already knew. She had read it in his eyes. Her lips sought out his again, but this time she deepened the kiss, her tongue gently prying open his mouth and slipping inside. In her kiss, Peter nearly cried, feeling all her loneliness for him openly displayed in the way her mouth eagerly captured his. He felt his body responding and knew she felt it too seeing tears threaten to fall from her eyes. 

Enough, he told himself. It was over. For the first time all evening, he really felt present in the moment, and he had an overwhelming urgency to show Elizabeth that he really was with her now. He unclasped his hand from hers and let it wonder up until he was cupping her breast. The accompanying hiss as he pinched her nipple gave him encouragement to continue. His mouth now hungry for more than her lips left a trail of kisses down her throat to teasingly suck her breast; his other hand dipping down to feel her readiness for him. Because Peter knew at this moment, neither of them was up for foreplay. He had a need to claim her, to be inside her where he hoped he would finally find peace in the reassurance that she was his and he was hers.

Meeting his eyes, Elizabeth nodded her consent; once again seemingly reading his mind. Peter wasted no time in entering her; half scared that he would stop himself if he gave it too much thought. Slowly, almost tendering they moved together. The need for one another after so long apart was self-evident. And because it had been so long and because it felt now so very right, both found release in short order. And in that release, Peter found a devil had been exorcized from his soul.


End file.
